


getting my strength from your embrace

by thethingsyoudoforlove



Category: The Centricide (Webseries)
Genre: Gender Dysphoria, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Porn with minimal Plot, THOSE TWO ARENT RELATED THAT SOUNDS BAD, Verbal Degradation, bottom post-left, handful of other minimal elements, high sex (although its mostly to advance the plot tbh its not really part of it), ish?, qi/qim post-left, they/them anqueer, top anqueer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:00:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28044309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thethingsyoudoforlove/pseuds/thethingsyoudoforlove
Summary: its postie/anqueer smut lolalso when i wrote this it was the first fiction id written in years and also the only smut ive ever written so it might not be super quality but  i refuse to take it down this ship needs more content
Relationships: Anarchist Polycule, Anarcho-Communist/Anarcho-Queer (Centricide), Post-Leftist/Anarcho-Queer (Centricide)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 45





	getting my strength from your embrace

"It’s okay! You’ll figure it out. You just need time,” Anqueer reassured qim. “You wanna hang out sometime?”  
Post-left looked confused. “Uh, like a, like a date?”  
“Yeah, like a date.”  
“Uh... okay.” Maybe this would be good for qim. Get back out there, think about someone besides the commu-  
“Great!”, Anqueer cut in, looking excited. “And we’ll bring Anpac, the Mutualists, Anprim if he wants to come…”  
Post-left was lost again. “Wait, you’re bringing all of them?”  
“Yeah, yeah! This is also a polycule! Everybody here also fucks each other!”  
Well, that was… something. “Uh…”, Post-left muttered, trying to give qimself a moment to think. That seemed like a lot to jump into. But then again, the anarchists really did seem to care about each other- most of them, anyway- and qi could use a little care, so… “Sick!”

They were back from that date, which had consisted of Anqueer, Anpac, Anarcho-nihilist, and the mutualist(s? Their body- or bodies? were shifting in a way that made it hard for Post-left to tell if the other ideology was one… entity, or multiple, which qi supposed might be on purpose)  
snuggling into the back corner of a bubble tea shop until the owner informed them they were closing, and coming back to the apartment to sit around the dinner table with a big back of McDonald’s food, Post-left scarfing down a large fry and making a mental note to tell qis new housemates qi was vegan. The gang finished eating and the minimal amount of cleaning up they did was split pretty evenly, and eventually Annih and the mutualists split off, and Anpac relocated to an armchair, leaving Anqueer and Post-left sitting around the kitchen table, chatting.

“So, I know you used to be a big Anarcho-communist, but have you ever checked out any queer theory?’ asked Anqueer. Post-left nodded.  
“Yeah, I think _Dicipline and Punish_ was the last book I really sat down and read, actually.”  
“Oh, sick! Well, if you ever want to get more into it-” they waved enthusiastically at the commune’s bookshelf, on which a collection of beat-up paperbacks were packed- “I have a lot of Butler’s stuff, some Halberstam-”  
“What do you think about Edelman?”  
Anqueer scoffed. “He fucking sucks, obviously.”  
Post-left looked a little dejected. “Oh, I kinda like Edelman, but I don’t really know about this stuff, so-”  
_Fuck, I didn’t mean to hurt qis feelings_ , thought Anqueer regretfully. “And that’s fine! Nobody here is gonna get on your case for minor disagreements, okay? C’mon, we live with a monarchist and you think I’m gonna get on your case for liking an author I don’t fuck with?”  
Post-left smiled. _Thank God._ “Thanks, I- maybe you could tell me about this stuff sometime?”  
Anqueer nodded. “Of course.”

The pair sat in silence for a moment, a silence they both desperately wanted to break, but they were still in that awkward stage where nobody knows how to start a conversation when the last one peters out. Then Anqueer got an idea.

“Hey,” they said, lowering their voice a little. “You wanna go smoke on the roof?”  
“Fuck, _yes_ ,” Post-left sighed. Qi hoped qi didn’t sound too excited, but qi hadn’t been this sober for this long in forever, and while qi wasn’t going to ask around about hard drugs right off the bat, qi doubted anyone here would judge qim for wanting to get high.  
“Sick, okay.” Anqueer dipped into another room for a moment. Post-left looked around nervously, watching Anpac play around on his phone until Anqueer returned with a small backpack. “Let’s head out.”  
“Anpac not coming?”, Post-left asked, shutting the door on the basement apartment and following Anqueer into the building’s staircase. Anqueer shook their head.  
“Nah, he’s on some tolerance break this week,” said Anqueer, rolling their eyes a little, “and anyways, you look a little overwhelmed with the whole polycule-date thing.”  
Post-left nodded. “Yeah, I mean, I’m, like, into it, and it’s definitely not the weirdest setup I’ve been involved in, living situation or… otherwise,” qi added, glancing at Anqueer for acknowledgement, and they smiled knowingly, “but it’s… kind of a lot after living with people who range from openly-wanting-me-dead to quietly-wanting-me-dead-but-also-fucking-me, y’know?”  
They’d reached the roof, and Anqueer flung open the door to reveal, well, a roof. It had puddles in some spots and boards in others, but it was high up and overlooked the skyline, with a clear spot somewhat near the edge. “Nobody ever comes up here,” Anqueer said, walking over to the clear spot and spreading out a blanket from the bag. “Nobody except us in the commune, anyway.” They smoothed out a spot in the blanket for Post-left, who sat down, hugging qis legs to qis chest. 

“So,” they began, spreading out a rolling paper on their thigh in preparation for a rather large joint, “who’s ‘quietly-wanting-you-dead-but-also-fucking-you’? If you’re comfortable talking about it, of course.”  
Post-left sighed. “It’s- it’s tankie”. Qi stared out at the sky, unable to meet Anqueer’s eyes, imagining all the judgemental things they could be thinking. “And I know, I was calling myself an anarcho-communist and sleeping with a fucking statist, it’s stupid, but-”  
“Hey, don’t worry about it,” said Anqueer, turning to look at the other anarchist and placing a hand on qis knee. Qi met their gaze, and they smiled comfortingly. “I mean, fuck, I think a lot of anarchists have a thing for authoritarians in some way.”  
“Yeah, but not like this, I mean, c’mon, you know he would’ve killed me after his communist revolution,” Qi looked up at Anqueer pleadingly, begging for another word of reassurance.

“Babe, I fucked Anfash a _few_ times. I’m the last ideology you’re gonna find judging you.”  
“ANFASH?!” Qi looked at them, eyes wide. “You?”  
Anqueer laughed. “I mean, yeah, I just kicked his ass out of this commune,” they turned to look at Post-left, grinning, “but why do you think he stuck around for so long? Can’t get me in Ancapistan!” Post-left was laughing, really laughing, for the first time in forever. Like, doubled over, leaning on the other anarchist, tears coming out of qis eyes. Anqueer steadied qim with their arm, handing qim the freshly rolled joint once qi looked stable enough to hold it. Post-left reached for the lighter, but Anqueer batted qis hand away softly. “No, you’re to pretty to light it yourself. Let me do it,” they offered, holding the small flame up to the end of the joint as Anqueer inhaled.  
Looking at the way qis long fingers held the joint, the dark circles under qis gray eyes, the soft curls of qis hair, Anqueer felt like they could look at qim forever. Fuck, they needed to be at least a little high if they were gonna start thinking gay shit. They took the joint, the brush of their fingers with qis feeling electric, and inhaled, watching Post-left blow a cloud out of qis lips. Fuck.

The pair passed the joint between them without talking for a while, enjoying each others company but each too nervous to break the silence. 

“Thanks, by the way,” said Post-left, finally.  
“For what?”  
Qi took a long drag on the joint. “Well, I meant for the weed, but really for taking me in, and for not judging me for- for not knowing what ideology I’m supposed to be anymore, or for my pronouns, or for having been with Tankie, or… well, there’s a lot of problems someone could have with me, I guess, so thanks for not… having those.” Qi passed the end of the joint to Anqueer, who finished it in a single hit and pitched the ember into a puddle.

Anqueer leaned in closer to Post-left. They thought about putting their hand on qis cheek, or qis thigh, but decided on putting their arm around qis shoulders instead. “Post-left, you don’t have to thank me for not judging you for any of that. I don’t care if- if you know who you are, or who you fuck, or if who you are is something heteronormative society thinks is worth being. None of us care about that shit!” They leaned in closer. “We care about _you_ , Post-left. _I_ care about you.” 

The two locked eyes for a few seconds, their heavy breathing the only audible sound. The moment was tense, and something intangible lingered in the air- the feeling of the slight high starting to hit the pair, maybe, or something more. _Sexual tension. Yeah, that._  
And then Post-left pulled Anqueer in towards qim, kissing them, and qi felt some warmth return to qis world. The kiss tasted like weed and the metallic tinge of Anqueer’s lip piercing and Post-left couldn’t remember having felt this good in ages. Qis fingers were tangled in Anqueers hair, pulling the two in closer, and Anqueer had their hands under qis hoodie, cold fingers an abrupt sensation on the small of qir back. 

The two tumbled over, Post-left lying on the blanket with qis oversized hoodie pooled around qim, legs on either side of Anqueer with qis knees angled up, Anqueer on top of qim, running a hand through qis hair, their free arm, lightly muscular, holding them up. As they leaned down to kiss qim again, messier this time as Post-left’s mouth begged for more, they grinded their hips down onto Post-left, feeling qis dick beneath them. Anqueer couldn’t remember ever having wanted cock in their mouth as badly as they did right now, which was saying something, so they moved downwards abruptly, stopping with their hands on the button of Post-left’s jeans, looking up for approval.

Propped up on qis elbows, Post-left gazed down at them, half-expecting to panic. Getting head, or doing just about anything that required someone else to acknowledge that general area of their body, was hell for qim. Having someone touch qis dick, pleasure it, made qim feel like a man, or feel like whomever qi was with saw qim that way, and the resulting dysphoria was just too painful to make the experience worthwhile. But the pang of dysphoria qi anticipated never came, and instead, looking down at Anqueer, Anqueer with their knowing eyes and caring smile, Anqueer who just wanted to please qim, all qi could think about was how good it would feel for them to do just that. So Post-left ran qis hand through Anqueer’s hair, moaning out one word- “Please.”

Anqueer needed no other prompting, unbuttoning and unzipping qis jeans like it was what they were born to do, pulling qis boxers down with qis pants, fighting to position them just off enough for qis cock to pop out. They caressed their hands down Post-left’s sides, left hand gripping the side of qis angular hips, right hand wrapped around the base of qis cock, twisting their wrist around to pump up in a circular motion, the sound of qim moaning getting them more aroused by the second. They wrapped their lips around qis shaft, encircling the tip with their tongue, focused on building qis excitement. Looking down at qis length, they got the sense that they could probably take all of qim in their mouth right now- their gag reflex all but trained out of them- but decided against it, not wanting to speed the moment up too much. Instead, they moved their mouth up and down the upper part of qis member, working the base with their hand, coaxing qis hips up closer to their lips, ignoring the harsh sensation of the cold pavement against their shins as they kneeled for qim. They felt qis hand tighten on their hair, gripping their curls between qis fingers, not controlling the motion of their head so much as trying to feel it in every way possible. 

Post-left felt qimself being absorbed by the pleasure, mind completely blank except for the sensation of Anqueer moving up and down on qis cock, Anqueer wrapped around qim, Anqueer supporting qis thighs. Qi felt qis eyes roll back, mouth open, whining with euphoria at every sensation from the wetness of the other anarchists’s mouth around qim. Involuntary, the impulse flowing from deep inside qim without qis brain heaving the slightest hint of control, qis hips jolted upwards, qis tip hitting the back of Anqueer’s throat in one thrust. _Fuck,_ that felt good. _No- fuck- that must’ve hurt._ Shit. “I’m- sorry,” qi choked out, barely able to form the words, “I didn’t mean-”

Gender-non-conforming-God, thought Anqueer, did qi apologize for everything? “Babe, I can take it, you don’t have to be sorry. Actually-” they mused, eager to show their enthusiasm so blatantly that Post-left couldn’t possibly be mistaken- “-do that again. I wanna feel you in my mouth, at the back of my throat, I wanna make you feel good, I don’t care about anyth-” They were cut off by qis dick hitting the back of their throat, with more force this time, more intent, and the moan they let out was garbled by the cock in their mouth, a sound that caused Post-left to cry out even louder. _Fuck, this roof might be deserted, but they weren’t_ that _high up- someone on the street immediately below could easily hear them. What if- no, wait, that’s actually fucking hot_ , thought Anqueer, moaning again, pitching their whine higher and louder for emphasis. Post-left had tightened qis grip on Anqueer’s curls again, pushing their head down onto qis cock as qi bucked qis hips upward, too blissed out for the coordination to line up, but clearly learning to focus on qis own pleasure. _As qi should._ Anqueer kept qim in deep, bobbing their head just enough to keep qim stimulated without breaking the closeness creating their crescendo of moans, pulling qim out of their mouth only to gasp for breath.

Post-left looked down at them, drool at the corners of their mouth, a string of saliva still connecting them to qis dick, panting with the clear intention of diving back on. They made eye contact with qim, the half-fucked-out-half-focused expression of their gaze almost enough to put qim over the edge. “Fuck, don’t stop, I’m so close,” qi moaned, not remotely assertive, but that didn’t seem to matter to Anqueer, mouth back on qis dick with a vengance, as if making qim come was their sole mission in life, alternating between gazing up at qim and focusing down on the base of the cock in their mouth. They moved their lips up from near the base to connecting just below the tip and back again, tongue stroking the base of qis shaft, right hand back in position to guide qis cock in and out, in and out. Finally, the pleasure was too much for Post-left, moaning out _“Fuck, Anqueer,”_ feeling cum shoot from qis cock down Anqueer’s throat, just catching a glimpse of their eyes rolling back and the motion of their neck as they strove to swallow every last drop before qis vision went blurry and qi leaned back.

Anqueer felt qis moans turning to whines turning to whimpers as they pumped qis cock, coaxing them through qis orgasm, “You’re doing so good for me baby, so good,” They knew they couldn’t swallow any more cum, smiling open-mouthed as they jerked off what was left of Post-left’s load onto their face, hoping the sight would excite qim when qi regained the ability to do anything but whine softly with pleasure, “So beautiful for me, Postie, so good at letting me hear just how much you want it,” they crooned, voice a little hoarse from everything their throat had just been through, moving their hand away from Post-left’s now-soft cock, wiping any trace of cum off on the blanket- _better remember to wash this thing-_ and moving instead to push themself up next to Post-left, lying on the blanket, painting from the exertion, hands on qis head, looking a little overstimulated.  
Anqueer propped themself up on their right elbow beside Post-left, turning qis face to look at them, arm around qim once qi turned to face them. Qi looked blissed out, eyes unfocused, qis small frame illuminated by the setting sun behind qim as qi awkwardly tucked qis dick away. Anqueer had never seen someone so beautiful. They loved their boyfriends more than anything, but something about the way Post-left looked at them, like they were the only other person in this world, like to Post-left there was nothing but Anqueer- well, nobody could help but start falling for that, right? _I wonder if qi looked at Tankie like that_ , Anqueer wondered briefly, feeling their characteristic rage bubble up inside of them, but pushing it down just as quickly. _It doesn’t matter_ , they reassured themself. _Is Tankie here with qim right now? No. You’re here._ They pulled Post-left in towards them, their lips meeting again, hoping their mouth didn’t taste too much of cum for Post-left to withdraw qis tongue. _Probably not an unfamiliar taste to them_ , Anqueer mused. The image of Post-left in the role they’d just taken on, one of qis holes filled with Anqueer’s cock, jolted them back to an awareness of the now-uncomfortable hardness between their thighs. As if qi was reading their mind, Post-left moved to cup qis hand around their bulge, caressing them. 

“You want me to… uh… take care of this?”, qi asked, looking up at then enthusiastically. They looked down at qim, smiling.  
“Yeah, but we should head back down to the apartment for that.”  
“Wait, why? Oh, I’m sorry- are you getting cold?” Post-left asked, looking apologetic again. “You can borrow my hoodie if you want-”  
“Nah,” Anqueer said, already sitting up to back up their stuff, “I have lube in my room.”  
Post-left started to set up, putting a hand on Anqueer’s upper thigh to stabilize qimself- _well, not just for that reason,_ Anqueer guessed, as qi leaned in closer, qir breath warming their neck. “Fuck, yeah, I want you to fuck me so bad, I want you to fill me up, I-”  
Anqueer sighed, pulling qim into a quick kiss that cut off qir sentence. “C’mon, baby, let’s wait till we get downstairs at least, you’re way too hot to be talking like that and expecting me not do to something about it,” they smirked, gripping Post-left’s wrist and pulling qim up to qis feet, guiding qim back to the stairwell without letting go, a more possessive form of hand-holding. They nearly sprinted down the stairs, both shivering with anticipation, until they reached the front door.

“Are the other anarchists gonna, like, be weird about this? Or-”  
“Postie, like I said,” Anqueer laughed, “ _we literally all fuck each other_ , what would there be to be weird about?”

Anqueer unlocked the door to the apartment- “Remind me to get you a key, post-left,”- and the pair slipped inside. Anpac was in the same armchair he’d been in when they left, but sitting in Anarcho-Nihilist’s lap, aggressively making out with him. The two separated for a moment, and he and Anqueer nodded at each other, before Anqueer pulled Post-left into a bedroom off the hallway, shutting the door. 

“So- that’s just… normal around here?”, Post-left asked. Anqueer nodded.  
“Oh yeah, Annih is, like, crazy exhibitionist-y, and Anpac gets off on pretty much anything whoever _he’s_ fucking is into, so whenever those two go at it, it’s just like, okay, guess I won’t be eating lunch at the table today!” They laughed, rummaging around in a drawer. “Strip from the waist down and get on the bed. But really, if seeing them like that makes you uncomfortable, we can discuss it next time we’re all together, or I can talk to them about it privately, and they’ll stop- we care a lot about consent here, y’know?”  
Post-left was removing qir clothes. “No, it’s not uncomfortable at all, it’s- it’s actually kinda hot. So we don’t, like, have to be quiet or anything?” Anqueer shook their head, and Post-left blushed. “That’s- well, I’ve never been very good at that anyway, so it’ll be nice not to worry.”

“I noticed,” laughed Anqueer, setting the bottle of lube on top of their dresser and moving in closer to Post-left. “Now,” they whispered, leaning down to leave little kisses along Post-left’s jawline, “what was that you were saying earlier? Oh- can I-” their lips met qi’s neck as they applied light suction, not enough to leave a mark, somewhere between a kiss and an indication of their request. Qi leaned qis head back, trying to suppress qis moans, let out a coherent sentence.

“I- please mark me, please, I just wanna be your slut, I want everyone to know what I am-”, Post-left gasped, loud, and Anqueer was pushing their hands under qis hoodie, the only thing covering their chest, breaking contact to pull it off, removing their own shirt with one arm, running a hand across qis chest, thumbing their nipples briefly before returning to leave another hickey, just an inch above qis collarbone this time. Qi felt so exposed, so open, but it wasn’t frightening. Qi wanted Anqueer to see qim like this, all of qim. Qi grinded against their pants, feeling their neglected cock, remembering why qi was here in this room in the first place, what qi was here to do, and qi fumbled at the button, hands grasping in the dim lamplight until Anqueer took one hand off Post-left’s body, undoing the zipper themself, pushing the obstructing garments to the ground and stepping out of them. Post-left glanced down, and _fuck, they were big_ , qi thought, before qis mind returned to the sensation of Anqueer leaving a third and then a fourth bruise, just below qis collarbone, and then the question qi was supposed to be answering. “I want you to fuck me, I- I wanna feel you pumping your cock deep inside of me, I wanna be overflowing with your cum, _I wanna make you feel good_ , Anqueer, it’s all I want, I’m just a hole for you, for your pleasure, please, please, I’m so empty I need you in me _right now-_ ” Qi was almost crying with desperation, and qi was certain qi’d feel stupid and pathetic over it later, but now? Now it really was all qi could think about, wanting them so bad.

All Anqueer could think about was actually getting to fuck Post-left before they came from all the begging qi was doing. “Get on the bed, I want you on your knees” they ordered, sounding more aroused than authoritative, which seemed to work just as well. They hopped up to kneel in front of qim, lube in hand, coating a finger. “I’m going to stretch you out, okay?” they said, Post-left whimpering in assent, burying qis head in their shoulder. They inserted a single finger, hearing the crescendo of sounds emanating from Post-left’s go higher the more they hit a spot qi liked. Their second finger went in with relative ease, and they started scissoring the two together, stretching qis hole to accommodate a third, brushing their fingers up to stroke qis prostate, feeling qis cock harden again against their thigh, hearing qis moans and whimpers louder and louder in their ear. Motioning their fingers around, expanding Post-left around them, they sensed qi’d hit a size that would accommodate them. They pulled out their fingers, and Post-left cried out in disappointment. Anqueer ran their clean hand through qis hair, pulling qis head back to face them. “Can I-”, they began to ask, unable to finish their sentence as Post-left cut them off.  
“Please, fuck me, I want you inside me so bad pleaseIdontwannagoanothermomentwithoutknowingwhatyourcockfeelslike-”

“Lay back,” they ordered, guiding qim to recline against a stack of pillows at the middle of the headboard, “and you’re pretty flexible, right? You can wrap your legs around me?” Post-left nodded, the sight of Anqueer lubing up their cock almost enough to send qim over the edge. They kneeled right in front of Post-left, pulling qi’s legs up high- qi felt qis joints straining to give them easier access to qis hole. With qim in position, they settled their left arm beside Post-left, muscles contracting as they supported themself into position, and guided their cock into qis hole with their right hand, moving their arm to support themself as they pushed themself in, deeper and deeper.  
Anqueer’s wasn’t the biggest cock Post-left had ever taken, but theirs was up there, and at first the sudden girth felt like a dull pain on qi’s walls, soon overtaken by the pleasure of the fullness inside qim, the arousal as each thrust rammed up against qis prostate. Anqueer fell into a rhythm, the stroke of their cock against Post-left’s insides steady. Qi looked up at them, their focused expression and the dominant air it gave them, and knew the reliable thrusting wouldn’t be sufficient to get qim off. “Harder,” qi pleaded, and sure enough, qi felt them speed up, thrusts somehow going deeper, each bone in their body jolted backwards each time their cock bottomed out inside qim. It still didn’t feel like enough, and qi racked their brain for some sadistic action he could beg for Anqueer to do, nothing too weird, but something that would be enough for qis masochistic side. “Please- please be- mean to me- slap- me- anything, just- take charge- please-” qi begged, between thrusts. 

Anqueer looked down at qim, not put off by the suggestion. “Fuck yeah, alright. Just tell me to stop if-”  
“ _Do it._ ”, qi begged, qir gaze certain, and Anqueer opened their mouth.  
“Fuck, you can’t even let me finish, can you? That eager to get degraded? I guess it makes sense, coming from you. All that smashing, but deep down, you just want to be smashed, huh?” Qi whined in approval. “You’re such a fucking slut, goddamn. What are you?”  
“I’m- I’m a fucking slut,” cried Post-left, bright red from humiliation and arousal.  
To qis surprise, Anqueer slapped qim across the face, hard enough to leave a handprint. They took advantage of the way qis mouth fell open to spit in it, watching qim gag in surprise and then swallow obediently. _Fuck_ , qi was hot. “You got it wrong,” they chastised qim, reveling in having led them right into that answer and punishing qim for it anyway. “You’re not just any fucking slut, Postie, you’re _my_ fucking slut, mmh? And don’t you forget it. Let me hear you say it again, and don’t _fuck it up_ this time.”  
“I’m- I’m _your_ fucking slut, Anqueer, I’m yours, I’m just a hole for you, I’m just your fucking cumdumpster, Anqueer~”  
“Mm. Looks like all you needed was a little authority after all, huh? Just wanted someone to tell you what to do, someone who knows better than you, huh? Why trouble your pretty little mind with figuring out who you are when I’m here to tell you? You gonna listen to me?”  
“Yeah, I- fuck, I’m whoever you want me to be, Anqueer.”  
Anqueer ran a hand through qis hair, looking down at qim, red-faced, drool around qis mouth, all marked up, and beautiful- so beautiful. “Good _girl~_ ,” they sighed, without thinking, and Post-left came, hard, ropes of cum shooting up qis chest and onto qis face. The sight of qim covered in qis own cum, utterly degraded and loving every moment of it, was too much for Anqueer, who shot their own load deep into Post-left, pulling out when they’d finished.

The two anarchists lay in silence for a moment, the only audible sounds being their heavy breathing and the faint moaning from Anpac and Annih in the adjacent bedroom. There was no longer sunlight emanating from the thin window up by the ceiling, the painted sunset replaced with the black of night. “I’ll get you something to clean up,” said Anqueer, regretfully getting to their feet and pulling on no more than a pair of boxers, “and something to drink, too, you look fucking wiped.” And qi was, smiling up weakly, contentedly, at their standing figure. Fuck, qi was beautiful. Anqueer planted a kiss on qis forehead before dipping out, pouring two glasses of tap water in the kitchen and taking a hand towel from the bathroom, wetting it under the faucet to clean qim up.

When they returned, qi sat up a little, reaching out wordlessly for the water, which Anqueer handed qim. A few sips later, qi reached for the towel, too, but Anqueer shook their head. “No, babe, you gotta let me take care of you,” they cooed, wiping Post-left’s half-dried cum from qis chest and face, throwing the towel aside when finished. “You look cold, you wanna borrow a pair of sweats?” they asked, then shook their head. “Wait, I’m stupid, you didn’t come here with any clothes. You wanna _have_ a pair of sweats?”, and Post-left nodded, Anqueer throwing qim a clean pair from their closet. Qi put them on, and the pair settled into bed next to each other.

Anqueer’s arms encircled Post-left’s upper body, pulling qim in at the waist, Post-left snuggling into the embrace. They looked down at qim, adoration in their eyes. “You’re so beautiful, Postie, you know that, right?” Qi nodded. Not enough. “No, I wanna hear you say it back to me,” they whispered, a smile curling at the edges of their lips, but they really meant it.  
“You’re beautiful, Anqueer.”  
Anqueer laughed. “No, thanks babe, but I meant _you_.”  
Post-left buried qis face into Anqueer’s chest, clearly blushing from what was still visible of qim. “ _I’m beautiful_ ,” qi whispered, and Anqueer prayed that qi believed it.  
“You’re so good for me. You’re so fucking hot. I love being with you like this. God, you’re perfect,” they praised qim. “You know I don’t really believe any of that degrading shit I said about you, right?”

“I know, babe, that’s why I asked you to say it. I- uh-” qi thought back to how Tankie spoke to qim- “I can tell when someone really means it, don’t worry.” Anqueer looked concerned. Fuck, that wasn’t the right response, was it? “Sorry, that sounded sad, I don’t wanna bring down the mood, I just meant, like-”  
Anqueer shook their head, brushing Post-left’s curls out of qis eyes, looking at qim straight-on. “No, I know what you mean, it’s okay. It’s okay to be sad, Postie, I’m not gonna be mad at you for- for having emotions, or opinions, or anything like that. Don’t worry.” They pulled qim into a kiss, soft and passionate and all-encompassing, and then hugged qim closer to themself, the smaller anarchist burying qis face by their collarbone as the two lay down together, Post-left feeling truly comfortable for the first time in forever, growing stronger as if the promise of something new was blood coursing through qis veins, returning to qim a sliver of hope that there might really be a better tomorrow.

They slept like that, holding each other tight under a pile of mismatched blankets, and at noon when they awoke, Anqueer made qim tea.

**Author's Note:**

> if people,,, enjoy this i might write more of these two/the polycule in general so!! lmk if u Enjoy lmao  
> constructive criticism is WELCOME because i,,, have not written smut in YEARS but please be nice 👉👈 u can follow me on jrumblr @ anarkittie or jritter @ penitenceball if u r so inclined  
> and yes the title is from xXXi_wud_nvrstøp_ÜXXx post-left is a 100 gecs fan and u cant change my mind. no i am not projecting


End file.
